Freedom's Struggle
by callousfinch
Summary: One man's story of his escape from a slave camp and the character-defining moments that result.
1. Chapter 1

Dan opened his eyes and felt a wave of anxiety hit him. After laying motionless for a few moments until it subsided, he swung his legs over the bed and stood up. He heard footsteps and the clattering of armor right outside his tent. He walked to his chest - the only other object in his tiny "house" besides his bed - opened it, and pulled out all the stuff he'd need for the day's building. Then he left the tent.

He almost bumped into a trio of soldiers who were escorting around ten prisoners. One of the soldier's, glanced at him, then grabbed him by the collar and pushed him into line with the other prisoners. Dan offered no protest, just went along with it. One of the prisoner's, a man with gray hair and wrinkles around his eyes, nodded a greeting. "Nice day," he grunted.

Dan heard a shout and twisted, to see a prisoner arguing with a solider. The soldier drew his sword, and hit the man across the head with the pommel. The man collapsed and lay motionless in the dirt.

By now, more prisoners were being added to the group, eventually hundreds of them were marching on. The ones in the back were pushed and prodded by the soldiers. Grunts and moans echoed around Dan. He tried to block it out, but to no avail.

Suddenly there was a commotion to his left. Dan turned and saw several prisoners attack a soldier, pushing him down. Three soldiers rushed forward to beat into submission. Fights began to break out everywhere. The air was filled with yelling and screaming. Dan stopped marching, stood still in bewilderment. Writhing bodies struggled on the ground. Now the soldiers were using violent force to repel the prisoners.

Suddenly Dan was awake. Without a thought he bolted forward, pushing past the other prisoners, heart thumping in his chest. He ducked under a large, muscular man, and came face-to-face with an angry soldier. The soldier drew back his arm, sword in hand. Faster than lightning, Dan reached up and grabbed his arm with the sword, and then head-butted the soldier. The man shuddered and took a step back. Dan was able to wrench the sword out of his hand. Without thinking he raised his arm and swung. The blade cut easily through the soldier's tunic and he shuddered again. He looked down, and put a hand on the wound. Then he collapsed.

Dan stared at him for a moment, stunned. Then he snapped back to reality. Looking around, he saw no more soldiers in the nearby area. He began running. He had to get away from the crowd. He could hide somewhere - maybe even find a horse. He could get out. He could escape. The thought sent tingles of excitement through his body.

As he pushed past the other prisoners, making his way to the outside, a soldier got in his way. The woman was jabbing at a few angry-looking prisoners, keeping them at bay. Her back was to Dan. Rage surged through Dan, and he crept noiselessly up to her. He plunged his sword through her back. Her body shuddered and then went limp. Dan pulled the sword out - it required several yanks. The prisoners quickly gathered up her gear and ran off. Dan, meanwhile, kept making his way toward the outside.

He saw over a dozen prisoners bolting away. A few soldiers gave chase. Dan sprinted for the cover of the trees, keeping his head low. He reached the trees and kept running, further and further into darkness. Leaves slapped his face and roots snagged his feet, but he kept going. Before long he was completely out of breath and had to stop. But he didn't feel safe on the ground, so he found a nice, good tree and climbed it. He roosted in the branches of the tree for several minutes. On two occasions prisoners fled under him. They were unaware of his presence. Dan prepared to climb down when he heard someone crashing through the bushes. A female soldier emerged, tunic soaked in blood, sword in hand. She ran right past him without stopping. When she was gone, Dan climbed down, and continued running. His spirits were soaring. He'd escaped! He was free! No more tents, no more soldiers, no more building. He could cry for joy. Then he reminded himself he wasn't out of the woods yet - literally. Until he put a hundred miles between himself and that horrible camp, he was still in danger.

***GCG***

By afternoon he was tired and sore and hungry. Luckily, not long after he began to feel the growing emptiness in his stomach, he emerged from the woods. In front of him was a dirt road. Probably a road soldiers used. Dan looked to the right and saw a sign beside the road. He was too far away to make out the writing, so he got up and walked to it. It said 'Egendale 50 miles.' Egendale. Dan didn't want to go there. Place was full of soldiers. Now, if Egendale was _that_ way... then the ocean was _that_ way. Dan smiled. He could get on a boat and leave this place! But, there were some obstacles. He didn't have any money, he was dressed like a prisoner, and the soldiers were probably hunting down the prisoners. They were probably expecting some prisoners to try to escape on boats. That would make things more difficult, certainly, but not impossible.

He formed a plan. Find a town, sell this sword, use the money to buy new clothes and food - and make the rest up from there.

He started walking. He hoped he could find a town before it got dark. Otherwise, he'd be picked off by monsters. What a shame that would be, to escape a labour camp and then die to a skeleton or zombie. At least I have this sword, he thought. That made him think about the two soldiers he'd killed. A man and a woman. In the heat of the moment he felt no remorse, no sympathy. But now that some time had passed, a strange feeling was in his gut. I've killed people. Two people. I've never killed anyone before today.

He tried to ignore the feeling, but it pressed on him. In fact, he was so entangled in his thoughts, that he didn't notice the carriage until it was right behind him.

He whirled around and found himself staring into a horse's big black eyes. Oh no. They'd found him. Dan began to run. He was not going to get cut down after all that!

"Woah there lad!" a voice called. Dan kept running, paying the voice no mind. "Laddy! Slow there! Do you need some help?" That piqued his interest, and he stopped, and turned around. A man got down from the carriage. He was overweight, and obviously wealthy, with beautiful clothes. He extended his hands toward Dan. "Are you alright, lad? You don't look well."

Dan took a deep breath to steady his trembling limbs. "Yes, I'm fine," he said.

"You don't look fine," the rich man said. "You look like you've been running in the forest all day."

"I have," Dan said.

"Why?" the rich man asked.

Dan realized this might be a good opportunity for him. Apparently the rich man hadn't realized yet that he was an escapee. Perhaps he could convince him he was just a regular man.

"I was chopping wood," he lied. "And I got attacked by some spiders. I ran, but I lost my way. I had to leave my equipment - all I have left is this sword."

"Where're your clothes?" the rich man asked. "Why're you just wearing that... tunic?"

"I got hot," Dan fibbed.

"Ah," the rich man said. He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Well we'd better get you to shelter before it gets dark. Or you'll be dead before morning."

Dan breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank you sir, thank you," he said.

"It's no problem," the rich man assured him. "Come on up into my carriage."

Dan did just that. He sat beside the rich man. The rich man grabbed his reigns and shook them, and the horses resumed walking.

"Don't mind me saying," the rich man said, "but you smell quite awful."

"Well yeah," Dan said. "I've been running in the forest all day."

"No, it's not that," the rich man said.

"What?" Dan said.

"It's..." He suddenly broke off. Dan glanced at him. The man was reaching into his tunic. Pulling out a knife. Dan grabbed his sword and held it to the man's neck. They stared into each other's eyes. The rich man's eyes were terrified, and Dan imagined his were, too.

"Let me go!" the man sputtered. "This isn't how you treat-"

"Be quiet," Dan ordered. "Keep driving. I won't hurt you if you don't hurt me."

Dan glanced down at the man's hand, which clutched the knife. He knew that in a moment, the man would plunge the knife into his gut. He had to do something. He pushed the man - pushed him hard. The rich man lost his balance, and screamed as he fell off the carriage. Dan grabbed the reigns and shook them hard. The horses sped up into a gallop. Dan looked over his shoulder at the man, he was picking himself up, brushing himself off. He shook his fist and yelled. Dan couldn't help but feel bad. The man seemed genuinely nice at heart. He'd just gotten too suspicious for his own good.

Dan tried not to think about what would happen to the man after the sun set.

***GCG***

Eventually, right before it was about to get dark, Dan spotted houses in the distance. He reached the small town in just a few minutes. Just in time, too - the last rays of sunlight were vanishing. Dan looked up, and saw a orange glow in the distance. The glow became bigger, and bigger, and started moving around unnaturally. Then Dan saw a face in the torchlight's glow. His heart jumped. The person holding the torch was wearing a tunic and a helmet, with a white feather sprouting out of it. He was a soldier. Dan grabbed his sword. If the man realized who he was, there would be no other choice.

Dan stopped the carriage. The soldier walked around and looked up at Dan. "Hello," he said. "What's your name?"

Dan made one up on the spot. "Fred son of Marcus."

"I'm going to inspect your carriage," the soldier informed him.

"Go ahead," Dan said nervously. This was going fine so far. The soldier didn't seem to realize.

The soldier went to the back. He came back a few minutes later. "Everything looks good. You may proceed."

Dan breathed a sigh of relief. Thanking the soldier, he rode further into town. The street was empty. It was a remarkably small town, just a few buildings. There was an inn though. Dan directed the horses into the parking space, then got down from the carriage. He tucked his sword into his tunic before going into the inn.

It was small. Some might call it cozy. A disheveled bartender stood behind the bar, talking to a pair of soldiers. The bartender looked up as Dan entered. His eyes widened. He pointed at Dan. The two soldiers turned around. Then their eyes widened. They reached for and pulled out their swords. Dan's heart flung up into his chest. He turned around and bolted out the door. Terror pulsed through him as he ran back to the carriage. He glanced back, and saw the soldiers burst outside, look around, trying to figure out where he went. Dan used his sword to cut he horses loose. He slapped their rear ends, exclaiming "Yah!" The horses took off running. The soldiers barely avoided getting trampled. Dan retrained one of the horses, and quickly mounted him. He spurred the horse in the side; it reared up and let out a shriek, and then fell onto all fours and sped off down the street, passing the astonished soldiers on the way. Dan glanced back and saw the soldiers mounting their own horses. The chase was on. Dan was determined. He'd come this far, fought hard to reach this point. Nothing was going stop him from reaching his freedom!


	2. Chapter 2

As the sun rose, so did Dan's spirits. In the early morning light he could see for miles all around him, as he rode through the desolate landscape. The wind in his hair. He couldn't help but feel... free... Tired as he was.

He was finally out of that horrible camp, finally out of the Dominion's clutches.

He rode on until the sun had risen fully, then he stopped and dismounted. He checked the horse's saddlebag- maybe there was some food in there- no, sadly, there wasn't anything. His stomach rumbled unhappily. Well, if he didn't find something to eat soon, the Soldiers wouldn't _have_ to recapture him.

He needed food.

He got back on the horse and rode. There were some trees ahead. He rode toward them. He passed a sign that said 'Dewfront, ten miles.' No thanks, he wanted to stay away from heavily populated cities as much as possible.

He reached the trees and dismounted. He heard a clucking and turned to see some chickens foraging among the shrubs. Drawing his sword, Dan slew three of them. He gathered some sticks and with the flint and steel he'd found in the horse's saddlebag, was able to start a cookfire, he slowly cooked the chicken meat and then ate. It was satisfying, he licked the fat juice from his lips.

He got back up and went back to his horse. Of course, it wasn't his horse, it was the man-he-stole-it-from's horse. Speaking of that man:

A wave of guilt washed over Dan as he remembered how he'd pushed him out of the carriage and rode off, abandoning him there in the middle of nowhere. At sunset. It was a cold thing to do, very cold.

He shook the thoughts away. It was in the past, it was over. What's the point in musing over it? It's too late to change it. Just suck it up and move on, he told himself in the quietness of his thoughts.

Turning his attention back to the horse, he spoke for the first time in hours. "A good horse needs a name." The horse's head snapped up at the sound of his voice, its dark luminous black eyes focused on him for a moment.

"You're wonderful," He said. "But I can't think of a good name for you."

He patted the beast before climbing back into the saddle.

Soon, the grassy fields gave way to hard rocky outcroppings. Dan figured he was in the mountains now, though exactly where, he couldn't tell.

He could tell his horse was beginning to tire, so he dismounted and tied the horse with the lead in its saddlebag and let him lie down for a minute.

He sat next to the horse, listening to his tummy grumble, wishing he had brought more chickens.

"Freeze," said a voice.

He froze. His heart began to race. Was this is? Had they found him?

"Move aside," the voice said.

He got up, slowly. "Want me to put my hands up?" the words tumbled out of his mouth.

"Yes," the voice said.

"What do you have?" he asked.

She didn't answer. He heard her rummaging around through her bags. Slowly, he turned his head to see. She was a young blonde woman with tattered clothes and bloodstains on her elbows. She was armed with just a sword. A sword?

Dan looked down. At his feet was a large rock. Fast as lightning he plucked it up. The woman snapped her head around. "Hey!"

He pulled his arm back, took aim.

She jabbed his horse with her sword. The poor beast squealed as blood squirted out. Dan froze in shock; "No, wait! Don't hurt him!"

The horse began to tug on its lead, desperate to get away from this crazy woman.

The woman looked at Dan. She seemed almost feral. "Put that rock down now!" she shouted.

"Let's talk about this." he said.

She threatened to hit the horse. Dan tossed the rock down.

"Come here," The woman said.


End file.
